


Riding The Horizon

by burymeinziam



Category: 1D - Fandom, One Direction
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne Angst, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26575453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burymeinziam/pseuds/burymeinziam
Summary: In which Zayn and Liam are both dead, but not really.
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Riding The Horizon

**Author's Note:**

> This is a "repost" if you will. I had originally written it years ago and I've recently gone back and re-read all of my stuff and I just wasn't happy with it. So I took it all down and I'm slowly rewriting it all. I'm not as invested in the fandom as I was a little over five years ago, but I still love the boys and I still love the idea of Zayn and Liam. The dynamic I imagine between the two of them is just really beautiful and writing about it is nice and a lovely thing to get back to.

****

i.

Zayn gazes out into the horizon, eyes skimming over the pinks and reds and purples of the sunset. Sand slips smoothly between the spaces of his fingers as he picks up handful after handful; it feels like time.

He isn’t sure when he got to this beach or why or how it happened. All he knows is the sound of the waves crashing against the shore and the faint hum of a voice, light and lulling, singing in the distance. He isn’t sure when it happened, but it almost feels like forever. 

Gentle waves lap at his toes while he listens. The small, fleeting smile that skips across his lips goes unnoticed as the sound of faraway humming fills his ears. After a while, he turns his head, trying to locate the source and is met with the sight of palm trees and cocoa plants that he doesn’t remember seeing the last time he’d surveyed his surroundings.  
Before it was only beach but now there’s a pathway carved out into the sand. It’s weaving through the thick forestation made up of moss and small ferns that Zayn can’t seem to remember either. 

He bites down on the inside of his cheek before raising his arm to rub at the back of his neck. He’s no longer thinking of the soft voice that had subconsciously made him smile as it weaved itself into the confines of his mind. No, Zayn’s mostly occupied with feelings of fear and confusion now as he slowly pushes himself to his feet, cautiously stepping forward into the unknown. 

****

ii.

When he spots the clearing, his mouth falls open.

He’s never seen anything more aesthetically pleasing. There are trees and vines curving into near perfect archways. Butterflies fluttering and birds singing and flowers of all shapes and sizes and colors. It’s unlike anything Zayn has ever had the pleasure of seeing. It’s so absolutely stunning that, for a moment, he can’t help but to wonder if he’s dreaming; if he’s going to wake up and miss this place he’s discovered. But then he feels a hand on his shoulder, the grip soft but sure, and it feels all too real to be a dream. 

“You must be Zayn.”

The woman is tall and wiry with a wild mess of red curls. If her smile hadn’t been so warm Zayn would have been afraid, but her smile is warm and her eyes are bright and blue and shining when she looks down at him and her voice and gentle and patient when she asks if her assumption was correct. It almost makes Zayn feel safe. 

“Yes,” He answers, clearing his throat when his voice comes out hoarse. “I’m Zayn.”

His eyes continue to scan the garden, spotting some fruit growing on a few of the trees and a small fountain tucked way behind a few bushes. Zayn feels the woman’s hand slip from his shoulder and then her fingers are slotting themselves between his own as her smile widens. 

“Good,” she says. “He’s been waiting for you.”

And then she’s leading him down the winding path that travels through the garden. She watches as Zayn’s eyes travel all over, trying to make sense of where he is. They fall on giant wildflowers, follow small brightly colored birds as they fly from tree to tree. 

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” She asks him, allowing the fingers on her free hand to graze the leaves one of the bushes they pass by. 

Zayn nods. “Yeah,” he answers, turning to meet the woman’s gaze. “But… what—who is waiting for me? Where am I?”

The woman only smiles, just as warm as the first time, only speaking two words in answer. 

“In time.”

****

iii.

The singing is clearer now. The pitch is perfect and the easiness to the voice makes Zayn want to close his eyes and focus on nothing but the sound of the voice and the feel of a soft breeze against his skin. The woman is still leading him along the path, an eagerness to her step that Zayn can’t help but to find slightly endearing.

“Almost there,” she sings as she turns back to look at Zayn. There’s a smug knowingness to her voice he picks up on that causes his nerves to kick in. Zayn can’t help but to wonder exactly what is going on and it scares him because, while this place seems magical and enchanted and wonderful, he still doesn’t know when or how he’d arrived. Zayn doesn’t remember much of anything before he’d woken up on the beach. 

But then Zayn’s eyes spot a clearing and a beautiful and ridiculously large house. It’s vast and white with tall columns decorating the front and high ceilings that seems to stretch out for miles. 

They stop a few feet in front of the home, the woman letting go of Zayn’s hand, and all he can manage is “Oh…”

“Magnificent isn’t it?” 

Zayn is given a few lingering seconds to gaze upon the mansion before she’s moving again and he figures he’s supposed to follow. They climb up marble steps, passing by stunning works of art. Zayn’s fingers drift over rich cotton curtains, skim past smooth ceramic sculptures. It’s jarring because Liam can’t think of anything to compare it to and he’s suddenly all too aware of the fact that he doesn’t even remember where he’d come from. 

“Almost there,” the woman tells him as they turn a corner and head down a wide set hallway. Zayn can still hear the singing and makes note of the way it’s beginning to grow in volume. The tone drops to something low and calm and, if Zayn isn’t mistaken, maybe even a little knowing. 

And then they’re stopping, the woman holding an arm out in front of Zayn to keep him from moving forward. She grins down at him once more before stepping through an archway keeping a hand up in a silent order for Zayn to stay put.

Zayn does as he’s told, standing in place, staring dumbly as the woman crosses the room toward a man who appears to be around Zayn’s age although he’s not quite sure what that is. He’s standing casually, hands in his pockets, facing a window overlooking the beach Zayn must have been sitting on earlier. He’s singing a song that feels vaguely familiar, but Zayn can’t quite place. 

“Sir,” the woman speaks softly, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. 

The man turns towards the woman, his singing coming to an unfortunate end as he smiles. She smiles back eyes looking towards Zayn as the man’s follow. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes widening slightly in what appears to be disbelief. He’s looking at Zayn as if he’s been waiting forever for this very moment, as if his whole life has been a mere prelude to when he would get to see Zayn in the flesh. 

“Thank you, Mona,” he says, his voice soft, but strong. 

The woman – Mona – nods before crossing the room once more and heading back towards the garden. She places a reassuring hand on Zayn’s shoulder as she passes him by and then she’s gone. 

For the next few moments, he’s just staring, his eyes tracing the lines of Zayn’s body. Then he stops, eyes meeting Zayn’s as a warm, almost familiar, smile spreads across his lips. “Hello,” he says.

Zayn blinks, a huff of laughter escaping his mouth because he really can’t believe any of this. He has no idea where he is or what is happening to him and here he is about to introduce himself to a total stranger who can’t keep his eyes off of him. “I’m—” he clears his throat. “I’m Zayn.”

Liam’s smile falters at the introduction, but it doesn’t stray too far from his lips. Zayn notices a twitch in his fingers before he stretches out his right hand by his side. Zayn can see the restraint in the way the other man’s body appears to tense up, but he can’t quite figure out what for. 

“Liam,” he says with a nod of his head. “And I know.” 

Zayn furrows his brow, confused. “You mean you—” His eyes dart around the room, then back to Liam. “You know why I’m here?” 

Liam laughs lightly to himself, his head tilting to the side as he continues to smile back at Zayn. His eyes look fond. 

Then he’s stepping forward, a tentative hand reaching out to touch Zayn’s shoulder. His voice is soft, but sure and kind. He speaks two words; the same ones Mona has said to Zayn back in the garden.

“In time.”

****

iv.

“Do you know where you are?”

It’s dinnertime. Zayn and Liam are seated in a small, secluded area a few yards outside the garden under a gazebo. The stars are brighter and clearer than Liam can ever remember seeing before he’d first arrived on the beach what seems like ages ago. It was the first thing he really noticed about the place and all he could think about that night was how much he wished he could show Zayn.

And now Zayn was here, with him, and Liam knows he should be happy but he can’t help but to feel that it’s a little bittersweet. 

It’s the way Zayn shakes his head, using his fork to push a piece of broccoli around his plate the way he used to do when he was feeling pensive and unsure. The way he looks at 

Liam from under his lashes in a way that is almost accusatory. 

The way he says, “Are you going to tell me?” 

And Liam sighs. He wants to. He wants to tell Zayn everything; to explain why he’s there and what it all means. He struggles to bite his tongue because he knows it’s something 

Zayn needs to figure out on his own. All Liam can do is patiently wait for that moment to come. 

In time.

So, Liam shakes his head and spears a piece of chicken with his fork. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I can’t.”

**v.**

There was a crash and the next thing Liam remembers is waking up on the beach.

He couldn’t remember who or where he was or how he got there or when. 

All he knew was that it felt as though a part of him had gone missing. 

He remembers seeing nothing but sand and then suddenly there was pathway surrounded by beautiful trees and bushes and flowers. He remembers stumbling through the brush and finding a tall woman with bright red hair and then suddenly everything just hit him like the waves crashing against the shore on the beach. He remembers the way Mona had held him while he cried for a boy he felt would never come. 

“Be patient, dear,” she whispered, rubbing soothing circles into Liam’s back as he sobbed. “Just give it time.” 

Liam remembers thinking of her words as insensitive nonsense. That she was telling him he would eventually get over it. One day he would wake up and he wouldn’t feel that vacant hole in his chest. 

Just give it time and he would eventually forget that half of him ever existed.

Liam spent his days standing by a window watching the ocean and willing a figure to appear on the sand the same way he had. He spent nights under the stars humming songs and tracing out constellations in the stars. He stared up at the sky and wondered if somewhere across the world or in some other universe if the boy he longed for was looking at the same stars. 

And then, one day, Liam turned around and saw tanned skin and a shock of blond running through inky black hair and knew he was done waiting.

**vi.**

Zayn dreams of bright lights and cries for help.

Shattering glass and a hand gripping tightly onto his own. 

Fearful brown eyes gazing back at him as if they loved him so much that they couldn’t bear to think that this could be the last time. 

There’s screaming and he’s not sure if it’s him or someone else, but there’s also a sharp pain in his side and what seems to be blood dripping from his temple. 

He’s tired and his vision is blurring and someone shouting for him to stay with him. 

“Zayn! Please… just stay with me; Look at me!”

The voice is strained, but also soothing, and Zayn can’t help but to smile as he begins to fade. The pain in his side isn’t so bad after all if he can just hand onto that voice. 

_“Zayn…”_

And then he’s lying on a beach with sand slipping through his fingers, the hum of a near silent song ringing in his ears.

**vii.**

Zayn wakes up the next morning to the sound of humming and the feel of soft cotton wrapped around his waist. He groggily throws an arm over his eyes to block the blinding light shining through the large glass windows of his room before rolling over and burying his head into the pillows.

But then his eyes shoot open because the sheets smell like cinnamon and honey; something he hasn’t smelled in what feels like years. For a reason he can’t seem to place he feels like he’s grown used to the smell of antiseptic and medicine, something cold and metallic. 

He buries his face further into the pillow because the scent is warm and inviting and comforting in a way that almost feels like home. 

“I take it you slept well?” 

Zayn slowly pushes himself into a sitting position, bringing the pillow with him and hugging it close to his chest. 

Liam is dressed in a pair of white linen pants and a matching white shirt. It’s slightly uncomfortable the way he’s staring. Like he’s expecting something Zayn isn’t sure he’s ever going to be able to deliver. 

“Yes.” 

Zayn decides to omit the bright lights and the sharp pain in his right side. He instead focuses on the soothing words from a voice he still can’t quite places. The peace of drifting off into the sand. 

“Good,” Liam answers with a short nod of his head. “Mona set aside some clothes for you if you’d like to wash up and get dressed. Breakfast should be finished within the hour.” A pause. “If you’d like.”

When Zayn looks up at him, Liam appears nervous and a little hopeful. He’s looking at Zayn as though he’s begging him to say yes even though Zayn doesn’t really feel as though he has much of a choice. He knows he could decline and decide he wanted to leave – he’s pretty confident Liam wouldn’t stop him – but it isn’t as though he had anywhere to go. Liam and Mona are the only people Zayn knows here and they seem to be the only ones who can help him find any answers to the long list of questions he’s accumulated since he woke up on the beach.

“Sure,” Zayn says. “Thanks.”

Zayn can see the instant relaxation in Liam’s shoulders as the warm smile he’d greeted Zayn with the day before finds his lips. “You’re welcome.” Then he’s humming that same vaguely familiar tune as he turns away, making his way out of Zayn’s room and down the hall. 

And even though Liam isn’t there to see it, Zayn can’t help but to smile back.

viii.

Zayn remembers arms wrapped around his middle and a face buried in his neck.

He remembers swaying in their living room to a song about love and forever and the soothing sound of a voice humming along in his ear. 

Zayn recalls whispered “I love you”s and the sweet scent of cinnamon and honey as he drifted off to sleep.

**ix.**

Zayn finds Liam curled up beneath a tree in the garden with a book nestled in his lap. He looks peaceful and happy as his eyes travel over the pages and a quiet chuckle escapes his lips as he reads over a particular funny moment in the novel. Zayn almost feels bad for interrupting him, but he’d be lonely wandering around the giant house and, while Mona made for quality company, Zayn couldn’t help but to feel he was bothering her whenever he followed her around. He was actually surprised when Liam hadn’t greeted him that morning with news about breakfast and clean clothes as he’d done all the mornings before.

When he gets closer to where Liam is sitting, Zayn can hear the humming again and it’s the same song Liam hums every day; the same one that makes Zayn’s ears itch because its so familiar to him and he has yet to be able to place it.

Before Zayn has the chance to make his presence known, Liam’s eyes lift from the book and he grins at the sight before him.

“Looking around?”

Zayn shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs his shoulders. “I wasn’t sure of what to do,” he admits. “I didn’t see you this morning...”

Liam nods, smiling as Zayn trails off. He feels warm knowing Zayn was looking for him, but he also feels sorry because he remembers how lonely it was in the beginning. Liam wants to reach out and wrap Zayn up in his arms and tell him its okay. Everything will make sense; he just needs to give it time.

Instead, Liam pats an empty spot in the grass next to him and tells Zayn to have a seat. 

The smile Zayn offers is small, but grateful as he takes the spot next to Liam. He looks down at the book in Liam’s lap and tries to peak at the spine to see the title. 

“What are you reading?”

Liam takes a moment to fold the corner of the page he was reading to mark his place before shutting the book and handing it over to Zayn. “Old fairytales,” he answers. “There’s a library over in the west wing. It’s absolutely amazing… filled with books from floor to ceiling. I don’t know where they all came from, but when I got here I just—” there’s a pause. Liam looks at Zayn, his eyes almost sad. “I thought of an old friend,” he said. “It would take him a million lifetimes to read them all, but I couldn’t help but to think of how much he’d love it.”

Zayn watches as Liam closes his eyes, leaning against the tree wearing this light, almost melancholy smile.

“That sounds incredible,” Zayn answers. “I’ve always wanted a library. My boyfriend –”

He cuts himself off as soon as he says it. Zayn isn’t sure where the memory came from, but there’s the ghost of feather light touches against his hip as he passes a faceless figure in the halls of an apartment. 

He remembers the smell of afternoon coffee and playful nagging about how many cigarettes he’d smoked that day.

Zayn closes his eyes and listens to whimsical conversations about a giant house with a library and an art studio and a giant piano in the living room where they could sing and write music together. 

Zayn opens his eyes as his head turns to Liam. “That song…”

Liam’s eyes are hopeful, heart pounding in his chest. “Yeah?”

Zayn rests his elbows against his knees, his head falling into open palms. He groans in frustration because nothing seems to make sense. He knows he had a life before this one. A life filled with family and friends; people who loved him. There had to have been all of that and yet he can’t seem to remember any of it. Everything feels so familiar and yet all too far away. 

“I don’t…” Zayn sits back up, dragging his hands through his hair, pulling at the ends, before dropping them into his lap. “I don’t know. Forget I said anything.” He starts to stand up, wiping at the dirt on his pants. “I think I just need a cigarette.”

Liam nods, trying to hide his disappointment as he watches Zayn start back toward the house. “You’ll figure it out,” he says.

Zayn pauses. “Huh?”

“Just be patient,” Liam tells him. “It takes time.”

Zayn is quiet for a moment, a frustrated expression on his face as he stares off into the garden. “How long did it take you?” He asks, eyes looking back to Liam.

Liam shrugs. “A while… You tend to lose track of time once you’ve been here long enough.”

Zayn frowns. “Weren’t you lonely?”

And then Liam smiles, that fond smile he’d met Zayn with the first time he’d seen him. “Not anymore.”

**x.**

There was a crash and shattered glass and cries for help.

He remembers a hand gripping tight onto his own and then a shaky, soothing voice, brown eyes calling out for him to stay and then all of the sudden his palms felt empty.

He remembers the jaws of life and gruff voices telling him not to worry. 

“I’ve got you.”

It’s brief, but Zayn remembers flashing red lights, an ambulance, and a stretcher right next to his own. The other boy is blurry, but the eyes are big and brown and familiar. They’re also empty.

Zayn is fading and those eyes are the last thing he sees as someone calls out for time of death.

**xi.**

Liam is humming the next morning at breakfast and while the song usually makes Zayn smile, today it only makes him long for a life he’s struggling to remember and a boy he doesn’t know but can’t help but to love.

**xii.**

He’s sitting on the beach staring off into the horizon wondering how long it would take to swim to the very edge. He wonders if he’d make it and, if he did, if he’d be able to get back to wherever it was he’d come from.

Zayn can feel Liam approaching, feels the unexplainable wave if comfort that washes over him when the other boy sits down next to him. 

He picks up a handful of sand, watches the hundreds of thousands of grains of sand slip through his fingers. “I’m stuck here, aren’t I?” 

“What do you mean?” 

Zayn sighs. Looks back out at the water. “There’s no going back. I don’t know who I was or what it was like, but I had a life before this and I don’t think I’m going back to it.”

Liam can’t help but feel a little hopeful that Zayn is starting to fit all the pieces together. He’s hopeful, but he’s also beginning to feel a little scared. Scared because, for the first time, he’s starting to doubt whether or not Zayn would even want to stay.

Liam thinks about lying. He could tell Zayn he was right. There is no going back, but that’s not necessarily true, and Liam doesn’t think he could live with himself if he were dishonest. 

“You could,” he says. “Not yet, but you could.”

Zayn’s eyes dart to the side to meet Liam’s. He twists his body to face the other boy’s as his eyes grow wide with wonder and excitement and hope. “You mean… there’s a way back?” 

Liam starts to answer but closes his mouth because he really doesn’t want to give Zayn the option. He’s waited for what feels like forever and telling Zayn the truth could mean it was all for nothing. Looking at Zayn and seeing how eager he is to leave him; how willing he is to walk away from him… Liam can’t help but to feel that hole opening up in his chest all over again.

“Do you remember?”

“I remember bits and pieces…” Zayn sighs. “There’s an apartment and music… lights… pain… Someone died. It wasn’t me, but…”

And then Zayn is looking up and his eyes meet Liam’s and they’re the same brown eyes from the ambulance, the ones that had looked back at him in all the wreckage as a voice begged for him to stay. 

The wind blows and Zayn’s senses are filled with cinnamon and honey.

“It was you.”

His voice is so small Liam wouldn’t have realized Zayn had spoken if he hadn’t been watching his lips. 

Liam nods and his eyes are wet because he’d been waiting for so long. He’s been waiting for what feels like forever. He can’t find the words so he nods and he keeps nodding as the tears slip down his cheeks because he wants Zayn to know that this is true.

It’s time.

**xiii.**

“It’s been two weeks.”

Her voice is tired and thick due to an extreme lack of sleep. She’s sitting in small plastic chair next to her son’s bed. He’s hooked up to what seems like a million different machines. There’s IVs and tubes coming out of all sorts of places all over his body. He looks pale. Lifeless.

She’s praying for a miracle that may never come. 

“Maybe we should let him go.”

**xiv.**

“You died.”

He states it plain as day; as if he’d known this from the very start and, in a sense, he did. But his eyes are still sad and the tears are fresh as he looks at Liam. It’s like he’s meeting him all over again, but Zayn already knows him. He’s the boy Zayn would dance with in their living room and stayed up with to watch the sun rise on Sunday mornings. 

“I watched you die.”

Liam nods. “Yes.”

“Am I… Did I die too?” 

He looks back out toward the horizon. He’s afraid of the answer because if it’s yes, there’s no going back. He’d be stuck here forever with no chance at saying goodbye.

“No.” Liam shakes his head. “Not yet.”

Zayn’s eyes dart towards Liam. Questioning.

“You’re in a coma,” he explains. “You can... You have a choice.” 

Liam can’t help but to reach out, taking Zayn’s hands into his own, and it’s like they’re trapped in the wreckage all over again. Liam’s looking at Zayn and he’s pleading; begging him to stay. “You can stay,” he tells him. He’s hoping and he’s praying to whatever God is up in the sky that Zayn will stay because Liam has been waiting for him forever. Then he lets go, hands slipping the way they had before Zayn was pulled out of the car. “Or you can… you can go back.”

Zayn can see the life they had together. He sees the one-bedroom apartment that was way too small but somehow perfect for the pair of them. He sees lazy Sundays on the couch and coming home from work to find Liam burning dinner in the kitchen. 

Zayn also remembers yelling until his throat was raw. Memories of Liam shouting words he wouldn’t dare say in his right frame of mind before storming out of the apartment, the front door slamming and rattling the picture frames on the walls. There were nights spent on the couch and tiptoeing around the other person because neither of them wanted to be the first to say “I’m sorry.”

Zayn remembers them making love on every surface of the apartment, mapping each other’s body in every nook and cranny of one seven hundred square feet. He can still feel Liam’s hands gripping his thighs and lips brushing the outer shell of his ear. He remembers the stretch and burn and the feeling of being completely full and covered by a boy who meant everything. 

Zayn looks and Liam and sees all of that and would give anything to have it back.

But he can also see the life he had before and outside of Liam.

He can see his parents and his sisters who he’d give the world if he were able to. He remembers his job and his friends. There was so much outside of the tiny, little apartment and Zayn isn’t sure how he could give all of that up for an eternity in a garden with a boy he thought the world of. 

“Do I…” Zayn swallows, blinks back more tears threatening to fall. “Do I have time?” 

Liam stands, brushes the sand from his pants as he nods. 

“Some.”

And then he’s gone, disappearing down the winding path into the foliage.

****

xv.

Zayn doesn’t speak to Liam, but he talks to Mona.

“How long have you been here?” 

Mona smiles, cards her fingers through unruly red curls. “For as long as I can remember.”

“Are you happy?”

They’re sitting in the garden, Zayn watching as Mona takes a moment to consider the question. Zayn’s knees are pulled tight against his chest as he waits for an answer. He’s not sure what he’s expecting to hear or what even wants to hear. He doesn’t know if her answer will sway him one way or the other. Zayn isn’t even sure of why he’s asking. The only thing he’s sure of is that he’s curious.

Just before the silence grows too loud, Mona nods in affirmation. “Yes,” she says. “I suppose I am.”

Zayn starts to respond before Mona holds up a finger, stopping him. “That isn’t to say that I don’t find myself wishing I were somewhere else. I had a life outside of here once too, just as you do now. I was engaged to a man who loved me like no other…” she pauses, looking away as her eyes gloss over at the memory. When she turns back her eyes are still wet when she smiles. “And, God, I loved him too.” Her voices grows thick before she swallows and wipes at her eyes. “But we all gave our time. I died, just as Liam did and just as you will too… even if it isn’t now.”

Zayn takes a moment to consider Mona’s answer. Ponders a life back on earth with his family, of living out his life, growing old and dying all over again in his sleep. 

“Will I come back? If I leave now, I mean. Will I get to come back again later?”

Mona smiles, soft and sad, before leaning forward to place a kiss on Zayn’s forehead. She stands up and straightens her dress. 

“I don’t know, Zayn. I suppose that’s the beauty in dying; you never know where you’ll end up next.”

**xvi.**

It’s a little after 5:24 A.M.

The sun is rises in the east. 

There’s the steady rise and fall, the rhythmic beeping of machines. 

And then there isn’t. 

A mother and a father hold their three daughters as they cry.

**xvii.**

“Okay.”

Liam almost doesn’t hear him when he says it. He’d been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that if he hadn’t spotted Zayn from the corner of his eyes he probably wouldn’t have known he was there; let alone heard him speak.

“What?”

Zayn closes the distance between them, his toes sinking into the sand with every step he takes. He’s looking down at the ground because he knows this decision is life changing; Zayn almost can’t believe he’s making it.

“Okay.”

Liam’s eyes grow wide. He’s afraid to smile, to allow himself to believe his ears because he isn’t sure he’d be able to survive learning that it wasn’t real. He reaches forward, entwines his fingers with Zayn’s and when the other boy doesn’t pull away he knows this is real: Zayn is staying and that he’s here forever. 

“You’ll stay,” he says and Zayn nods. Then, tentatively, “Can I ask why?” 

Zayn sighs, looks off toward the water. “Whenever I’d think about my life before, I could only see you. I saw the life we had together and I… I know there were other people. My 

parents, my sisters, my friends… but all I saw was you. I couldn’t imagine a life without you in it.”

Zayn draws in a deep breath. When he looks up his eyes are met with brown eyes that are filled with a love that Zayn is only just beginning to comprehend. A love he felt but could never quite find words for. 

“I don’t know you, Liam,” he continues. “But I love you and somehow I just know that if I were to go back to my old life without you… I don’t know. I just can’t risk not being able to find you again.”

Liam steps closer, wrapping his arms around Zayn as he pulls him close enough to bury his face into his neck. Zayn smells like coffee and cigarette and home and for the first time  
in what feels like forever, Liam feels whole again. 

Zayn closes his eyes and allows himself to fall into Liam. There are so many things he wants to say and so many questions he wants to ask and find answers to, but right now he doesn’t feel like talking. 

For now, he’s content to succumb to the familiar scent of cinnamon and honey and the soft hum of a song he’s known since the beginning of time.


End file.
